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> Bon Bon, you decide, could wait.> She was far less likely to leap to make some rash, impulsive choice; her actions had been wrong, yes, but also careful and deliberate.> Rumble, though...> You snort softly, reminding yourself that you were once that age as well:> An aggressive, bucking colt ready to snap at the slightest provocation.> ...and what a provocation this had been, to apparently reduce half the camp's population to a similar state.> When the buzzer goes for the end of the dinner cycle, you are waiting near the dining hall nearest to his work - hidden in a nearby doorway from the worst of the winter's bite.> Ponies are streaming out, a torrent of exhausted and lined faces bundled against the chill.> Your eyes sweep over them, searching back and forth until-> There!> The crowd parts to let you through, your face recognized even without the telltale uniform.> Rumble walks with four other ponies - two colts, two fillies, all roughly the same age.> They chat and laugh among themselves, faces clearly showing their tiredness yet still buoyed by their youthful spirit.> One of the others is first to spot you; she nudges Rumble, pointing with a wing.> He nods, apparently saying goodbye before splitting from them to approach you.> "...hey, bro.""Hey."> Abruptly your composure cracks; you lean down and nuzzle Rumble.> "Ack! Hey, bro! Not in public!"> Rumble backs off, but there's laughter in his voice."Sorry, but embarrassing little brothers is a big brother's duty."> Ruffling his mane a bit more, you step back."Come on. You got some free time before lights-out and curfew?"> "A bit, I guess."> You put on a small grin."Then come on. I miss my little bro."> He smiles back, and your own smile turns genuine rather than enforced.> Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.> The walk back to his room - by unspoken decision, his had been chosen - was silent.> Mostly because yours was so far away.